Reading Rob Bell is like listening to pop music. It’s catchy, fun, and, when you turn it off, you walk around humming it just above a whisper. I’ve read a few of Bell’s books (Velvet Elvis, Sex God, Jesus Wants to Save Christians, Drops Like Stars), and I always get this feeling inside that I have to finish it as quickly as possible. Like it’s a race. I scan from one sentence to the next. You can’t linger over Bell. I don’t really know what this means; it’s just the way I read Bell.
I was surprised to read that Bell’s title was inspired from Haruki Murkami’s memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. I have vivid memories of staying up late at church camp a couple of summers ago and reading that book by the light of my iPhone.
Bell has three talking points when he talks about God. He is With us, For us and Ahead of us.
I don’t really want to lay out those three points. Instead, when I talk about Bell, I want to talk about his use of the “profane”, the cultural vernacular. Bell is pop-theology, and that’s why he can draw such a large audience. He’s relative. He knows culture, high and low, but I’m not sure he distinguishes between the two. I think he sees all of life as this huge playground. He plays, skins his knees, deals with a bully, goes down the slide, climbs across the monkey bars, knowing God is with him, for him and somehow leading him as he plays. If he finds something interesting, he’ll tell you about it, but he doesn’t really care if you find it interesting or if it insults you. He’ll tell you how to define a word in Hebrew and then quote Ricky Bobby. He will make you listen.
I don’t read Bell because he offers great theological insight. I read Bell because Bell reminds me that all this writing and speaking and teaching involves real people in real lives who have other things on their minds and easily get bored and distracted when people talk about God. This isn’t just happening in my head for the sake of me becoming smarter, better, whatever. It’s happening because I want it to get in other people’s heads.
Bell was recently in Nashville speaking at Vanderbilt, and he did a Q&A session at the end of his talk. Someone asked for some advice, and one of the interesting things Bell suggested is that the guy should become a student of culture. I get the sense that this is what’s at the core of Bell’s speaking and writing, culture. I think he does his best to communicate – which, whatever you think about him, he’s pretty darn good at – and then he let’s God take it from there. Really, there’s not much else you can do.
In 2011 I was able to hear Simon Winchester speak at the Carter Center in Atlanta about his most recent book, The Atlantic. He even signed my copy! I had read the book over the summer while on a trip to France, and was enamored with Winchester’s tales of the open sea and the fact that I could look out of the plane window and see the very waters I was reading about below. I quickly became a fan. Winchester is an excellent mix of the professorial and the accessible, and it’s clear from his writing, and the stories he uncovers, that he is a serious and dedicated researcher who has a knack for uncovering the absurd historical narrative.